


Evil Sand Is Evil

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Series: TTM Prompts [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Summer, how it's supposed to be, mystrade on the beach, to make up for this miserable weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: It's supposed to be the height of Summer but the weather here is miserable. I would love if you could cheer us up a little with some Mystrade in the sun!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evil Sand Is Evil

Mycroft curled his bare toes where they would otherwise have ended up over the edge of the towel he was sat on. His knees were bent to his chest, arms tucked to his sides and hands clasping his ankles. Not a position he ever thought he would be found in, but that was before he had been forced into coming here.

He glared over the top of his knees at the vast golden expanse of sand about him. There was nothing in the world worse than sand. He would take 72 hour negotiations with Korea, a kidnap and torture, or even an evening of Les Mis with his parents over the pain that was sand.

Sand got everywhere. It made it’s way into your shoes, socks, underwear, ears, and food, and stayed around for donkeys years. It was a pest Mycroft could do very well without, thank you very much.

He looked up when shade descended upon him and the sun’s glare vanished from the corner of his eyes.

“You look like you’ve sucked on a lemon.”

The figure responsible for the spot of shade was grinning down at him despite his words, his head framed by the bright sky, the sun like a halo about him.

Mycroft scowl only deepened. “Perhaps it has to do with my location.” He replied in what the other man would undoubtedly have called a sulk. “I believe my expressed wishes were very clear. Anywhere, absolutely anywhere, but the beach, Gregory. Those were my exact words. With emphasis on the ‘but’.”

“Which is exactly why I brought us here. Lighten up, Myc. The beach is fun!” Greg knelt in front of Mycroft and leant forward until his chin was resting on Mycroft’s knees, face barely an inch from Mycroft’s. “I can also see the way you’re looking at the sand, love. It isn’t going to bite. Or suck you into a hole.”

He then pushed forward to press their lips together in a quick kiss before sitting back on his heels again with a cheeky smile. Laughter bubbled from his chest when he heard Mycroft mumble something that resembled, “A hole would be better” and slapped Mycroft’s knees lightly.

Mycroft grimaced at the specs of sand it left in its wake.

“Come on, spoil sport! I know you’ve got your swim shorts on under there. Although, I’m not complaining about the jeans. At all. Ever.” Greg winked and pushed himself to standing. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He held out a hand for his partner to take to help him stand. When Mycroft grudgingly obliged, and carefully straightened so that his feet were still firmly planted on the safe-from-sand-towel, Greg tugged him forward so they fell against each other.

“Gregory.” Mycroft admonished again as his bare toes touched the cool sand over the edge of his safety zone. He couldn’t help but look up at Greg’s face, though, as he gripped the other man’s unclothed shoulders.

That was a mistake.

Gregory’s puppy eyes were Mycroft’s only weakness in life.

“Mycroft.” Greg countered with a grin. His hands found Mycroft’s elbows and he rocked them forward so they could both stand straight again, however Mycroft was still leaning against him. “If you don’t have fun I can always rub you down in the shower later. Make sure all that sand you’re worried about isn’t pestering you anywhere indecent.” He voice cut a little lower with that and Mycroft battled with himself. Greg watched it all in his eyes; the subtle changes in expression and intensity.

Suddenly Greg was crowded again. “What you do to me, you infuriating man.” Mycroft growled, leaned closer in the embrace and ran his hands maddeningly slowly down his partner’s chest. His gaze swiftly snapped back to his confident sensual self. “I had best make sure that I don’t have fun, then.” He replied with a sly twitch of his lips and a quick grab at Greg’s backside.  If he wanted to play dirty, two could play at that game; sand or no sand. Plus, the deal was more than worth his while.

Mycroft spun on his heels, bent languidly, and tugged at his jeans, glancing over his shoulder at the now befuddled and aroused Greg. His jeans slipped down his knees and Greg watched where his swim shorts hugged his fine form, eyes growing darker.

He raised an eyebrow at him as he kicked the denim from his ankles somehow neatly, without pushing it from the towel. Then he reached for the buttons on the front of his shirt. It had already been without the top couple done up but he wasn’t going to be pulling it over his head and ruining the effect.

It seemed to work, too, and Greg stepped in close to bat Mycroft’s hands away in order to unbutton the rest of the shirt himself. Callused fingers traced down his chest as each new button was popped. Mycroft breathed a sigh as Greg tilted his head to place feather light kisses under his jaw, down his neck, and across his collarbone.

An obvious grin was pressed into the skin of his shoulder as Greg leaned in to push the shirt from Mycroft’s arms. “I win.” He said triumphantly as he took a step back and took in Mycroft’s now exposed chest and let his eyes to run lower. Mycroft just shook his head and allowed Gregory his moment.

Then Greg’s grin turned into a blinding smile as he looked back up to Mycroft’s eyes. “Come on, then! Water’s waiting!” And with that, he was turning and bouncing towards the sea.


End file.
